Rough Night
by PossiblyAnElric
Summary: A while back, an attack occurred. The culprit? Jean Kirschtein, a university student. The victim? His own best friend, Marco Bodt. With no memories of the incident, Jean tries to uncover what really happened - but nothing ever comes easily for him.
1. Alone

I don't have many friends. I used to be pretty popular, way back when. But since the accident, they all kinda avoided me. They didn't hate me, exactly. They were scared. In this world, werewolves and vampires were totally normal, so why would they be so scared of me, Jean Kirstein, a normal college student at Trost Uni? What a question that was.

First off, Eren Jaeger liked to spread rumours, the lying prick. You'd think Mikasa, his adopted sister, would try and set him straight, right? Not. A. Word. It was like she liked seeing me laughed at. Yeah, we got off to a rough start, but that was a complication I should've prepared for. You'd think Armin Arlert would've stepped in too. He didn't, though. All he ever does is follow that suicidal blockhead around wherever he goes.

Ymir and Historia speak to me only when spoken to, but then again, I'm not surprised. Historia's helped me out a few times, but we're not huge friends. Ymir was just, well, Ymir. That tough butch lesbian that acted all cutesy around Historia and Historia alone.

Sasha and Connie seem to be my only "friends" at this point, if that's even the best word for it. Connie and I'd share a beer a few times on the weekend, I suppose. Maybe watch tv together too. Sasha's the more supportive friend here. You see, I have these "episodes" as she likes to call them, to stop people from asking about them. She looks after me when I do. She's brave, I'll give her that. But then, she's a vampire. She has a huge healing factor. Scratches don't stand a chance on her supple skin.

Of course, there's also the Titan Trio. The three shapeshifters on campus that are part of the Titans, a unisex soccer team. Eren and Ymir are on it as well, but Reiner, Annie and Bertholdt hang around eachother so much that we had to give them the title. Reiner and I used to be good friends, but for a year now he's been avoiding me. A big, burly bloke avoiding a broomstick like me. Yeah, I'd be a little confused too. Can't blame you for that look on your face.

I had another friend too, but we haven't even made eye contact since what happened. Kinda hard, anyway, since he only has one eye to do it with. He's probably tried to talk to me from time to time, but I've cut myself off. I still use Facebook, and Skype, and maybe even scroll tumblr from time to time. Human interaction just seems off the cards these days.

* * *

"You wrecked my shoes again." I hear a frustrated mumble from the main room as in examine myself in the bathroom. Eren Jaeger is my roommate.

"Maybe you should try leaving them somewhere less inviting." I call out, not once taking my eyes off the mirror. My hair's a near mess. My shirt's two sizes too big, and so are my jeans. I have a few bruises, but nothing too serious.

"what's that even supposed to mean, you mutt?" He responds. "Listen, this is the last time I pay for shoe replacements. Next one's on you." He treats this like a regular thing. It is, actually. He's gotten through about twelve pairs of shoes in a year thanks to me. Can't say I regret it, because I don't remember doing it.  
I stay in the bathroom for a few more minutes, when I hear a disgruntled yell emanate from the green-eyed boy.

"What the- what the hell is this? Okay, for the love of god, I swear I'll move out. I'll move in with Armin. Fuck this." I follow his complaining into the main room. In his bed, disguised by the duvet, Eren's mattress has been obliterated. Foam sticks to the fabric, making my hair stand on end with static as I go near the bed to examine it.

"Learn some self-control, man." He continues to complain.

"what can I say? It was bouncy." I smirk. "How was Armin's last night, anyway? Cramped up on that tiny sofa he has. Or were you somewhere a little more intimate?" I imply. That really sets him off.

"You know what, Jean? Why don't you just lay off and go back to kissing Marco's ass?"

Great.  
He just has to bring Marco into this.  
I stay quiet this time. Eren looks up at me. His expression changes slightly.

"Jeez, I didn't mean it. It just slipped out, alright?"

"Just drop it. I'll buy you back the fucking shoes." I walk to the dresser and grab a smaller shirt and jeans that didn't look like they could fall down at any moment. I bring them into the bathroom, shower and dress again.

When I get out again, Eren is gone. I guess he must've gone to meet with Mikasa and Armin. I pull out my phone and check through the abundance of notifications. A shitload of Facebook updates and a couple of snapchats. I open them. One is from Sasha and the other is from Connie. Sasha's is a picture of a reddened mark on her arm. A few hours ago, it would've been bleeding tremendously. Some envy her healing factor. It's captioned, "that's all you managed in 12 hours".  
I open the one from Connie, too. It's a video, about five seconds long. Connie's room is right next to mine, and he shares with Marco. In the video, there isn't much to see but there's a huge racket in the background. The video is captioned "how do I sleep thru this?".  
I take a snap of my face, close up on the dark circle under my eye, which had accumulated through the night before. I caption it "you don't" and send it to Connie. He replies pretty soon later, "well obviously not u".

I leave the building pretty soon later and head to the cafeteria. There, Sasha and Connie are waiting. Eren, Mikasa and Armin are there too, but seem to have already developed into a deep discussion. When I arrive at the table Connie and Sasha are at, Connie gets up to leave.

"Huh? I just got here." I mention.

"Yeah, I know, but there's someone I need to talk to. I'll see you in a bit, right?" He walks to a table in the corner of the room. His roommate, Marco is there. I can't bring myself to look at him without feeling sick. His skin is patterned with painful-looking scars that cross out his freckles, and an eyepatch marks the loss of his right eye.

And to think it's all my fault.

* * *

"Sorry about Connie. He's been a little preoccupied all day. No worries, right?" Sasha apologises to me. I almost don't hear her, because I'm half asleep. I give her a nod, trying to win a staring contest with the sea foam green wall. My body is awake but my mind is in a trance. I'm still thinking about everything that's happened in the past year. I continue like this for a while longer, before I feel a thick, broad hand hit against the back of my head.

It's Reiner. Six feet tall and muscles to compare to a superhero. I can't help but admit I feel a little intimidated by him, but who wouldn't be? He's huge. Though, rumour has it _he's_ intimidated by _me._ Whatever it is, it's a surprise he's decided to come to talk to me.

"Hey, uh, the Titans are playing a match tonight. It's pretty big. Bertl wants to know if you guys are coming." He explains as I and Sasha look up at him. With us sitting down, we almost have to shield our eyes in his might.

I decide I'm not totally ready for a big event like that. It would mean going into a stadium surrounded by people, possibly some I've been avoiding for pretty valid reasons.

"Sorry, but I don't have ti-"

"We'd love to come! Connie's loaded, I'll find some way of dragging him along for tickets." Sasha beams. Great. I mean, I know she's trying to be a friend, but _come on, Sasha._ Think of the children.

"That's great. I guess I'll see you there." He strides off without another word. I'm surprised Bertholdt isn't with him, tailing off his magnificent wake.

When he's safely gone, I give Sasha an awkward, almost confused scowl.

"Come off it, Jean. A year ago, you'd be all over this kind of event. FIFA 15 doesn't cover it." She giggles, taking a small bite out of her sandwich. "Anyway, 's too late to back out now. I told him we're going."

"Not if Connie can't afford tickets." I point out.

"Trust me, he will." She smirks a little, and then I catch on. Connie's practically devoted to her these days. They're not exactly dating, but if it's not already obvious they have a thing for eachother, I don't know what is.

Sasha eats in silence for a while. I'm not so hungry, so I just sit there, reclaiming my unblinking view of the wall. I find myself delving back into the problems I can't seem to forget. The fact that Sasha and I are silent right now, when we could be laughing and talking to eachother, says a lot.

I need more friends. People I feel I can socialise with more. People like me.

But the problem is, nobody will actually tell me if they're like me. I wish I had a sixth sense. Like, so I could just look around the food court and go, _hey, that guy's got my problem, too._ Maybe I wouldn't feel so horribly desolate.

It's not too hard trying to figure out who's what around here, though. Sasha's pale and has long fangs. She always keeps a parasol with her. She's pretty clearly a vampire. Historia has long, sweeping wings that trail feathers around the floor. That alone kinda tells us she's an angel, if it's not just for her goddess-like demeanour.

I feel like it should be just as easy to spot a lycanthrope. After the infamous 'Mikasa Incident' most people around here know what one looks like.

I'm starting to go way too deep into this. If I go any further, I might just end up making myself depressed.

"Fucking hell, nobody told me there was a match on tonight! Come on, we gotta get tickets before they sell out."

I give this award for defusing the tension to Connie Springer! Come and get your prize, man. Before I know it, he's holding Sasha by the shoulders, getting bread crumbs all over the floor. He pulls her to her feet.

"Oh my god, just kiss already, you freaks." I mutter with a smirk stretching from ear to ear.

"Awh, poor Jean. Feeling left out?" Sasha teases me.

"God no. I just think you should make it official already."

Connie shoots me a glare, and then starts laughing. Sasha joins in. Then I feel obliged to laugh too. I guess these guys are my friends. We laugh together. That's enough, right?


	2. The Past

I feel like I owe you guys an explanation. Why I've been secluded from the rest.

I'm pretty sure everyone I know saw what happened, or at least saw the after-effects. They'll never say a word about it, but I can just tell. It's a look in their eye, a tremble in their voice. Most of them wouldn't blame me, but the thing is, _I_ blame me. Frankly, just for existing.

It may piss me off, but Eren has every right to call me a mutt. I thrive on these insults. I don't like them, not at all. I guess they just kinda fuel me, show me where I stand.

Just about over a year ago, I did something terrible. Or rather, not me, but the other guy in my head. It doesn't even have the right to be called a 'guy'.

It's an It.

A monster, tucked away in at the back of my brain, taking over once a month.

Sasha tries to comfort me on that, telling me I'm not alone. Does it really matter, though? Does she really know what it's capable of? Sure, there are other people on campus with the same affliction, but they're not the one who shredded their best friend's skin and tore out his eye.

It's a mental image I'll never forget.

Even if _I_ was unconscious when it happened, whatever the beast witnessed at that moment got imprinted into my mind. I could see, smell and taste the blood, all at the same time. That scream, that blood-curdling scream which rang in my ears and woke the whole dorm, alerting everyone of the horror that was occurring. The ache in my jaw as I bit through bone.

That's the bit that doesn't add up.

Professor Smith told me the only bone of Marco's I broke was one of his ribs, which must've been blunt force trauma. There's something nobody's told me about, but I'm not sure what it is.

So, there. That's why everyone's so afraid of me. I get the feeling Reiner had a first-hand experience of it, or he wouldn't avoid me so much.

People tell me Erwin was there, that he was the one who ended up restraining me. The difference between him and Reiner is that Erwin's had experience. He's a history professor who studies werewolves in his spare time. He knows how to handle these situations. It would only make sense that even if he was just as afraid as Marco, he'd put on a brave face and charge through it.

The most fascinating thing to me, though, is how he managed to do it with only one arm. My whole memory of that time is a little hazy, so I don't remember the exact day, plus I was put in confinement for a few days after the attack.

Some time before that confinement, Professor Erwin Smith was in a car accident. He lost his arm but dealt with it surprisingly well. Ever since, we've been consoling eachother out of lessons. He understands that what I've gone through is utter shit. He's not a trained counsellor, but he's the only peer in this damn university who seems to get what runs through a werewolf's mind as it destroys its prey, and how traumatic that can be for the human trapped inside.

Erwin doesn't ask for much in return, only that I shouldn't be blaming myself for what happened. The problem is, I just can't. My whole life I've grown up in a nice house, spoilt by my mother, and I've been transforming ever since I was a child. I feel like I should be able to control it, but it feels impossible. Every full moon it takes me by surprise.

Erwin said that other werewolves on campus get the same thing. If there are other people like me here, why won't anyone introduce them to me? Don't they realise how alone I feel?

I guess I should stop complaining so much. I mean, I guess there are some things I can laugh about. For instance, before the incident, everyone was much more laid back about what I am. That's a quick way of explaining why Eren's so quick to calling me dog-themed nicknames. I think he keeps a list of them, because every day he comes up with a new one. It all started when I first laid eyes on Mikasa.

There she was.

That beautiful, strong, black-haired woman. I wouldn't call myself a ladies man exactly, but I've met a fair amount of girls I'd make out with. None of them compared to her. Mikasa Ackerman.

Okay, so I tried chatting her up. She seemed... Disinterested, at most. In fact it was only when the look of disappointment on Eren's face morphed into a laugh that I realised how far I'd fucked up.

I'm not the best at controlling my ailment. That's just a fact. So, I should've prepared myself for the worst. In this case... I was flustered, alright? I'd never seen a woman quite so stunning as her. The air was hot and stuffy. I couldn't breathe properly. I could've collapsed on the spot but I'm just so damn headstrong, I just had to keep going.

And there it was. Before the eyes of everyone in the cafeteria, I had transformed. Way to go, Jean. You try flirting with one good-looking chick and you end up looking like a humanoid puppy.

Mikasa walked away without another word.

Eren laughed, a lot more than you'd expect, and called me a fucking chihuahua. Sasha nearly choked on her potato.

Connie screamed a little, which considering how I looked, seemed a little more appropriate than Eren's reaction.

Of course, I didn't look like a puppy, I was half a foot taller, covered in fur and had huge-ass claws, not to mention the fangs. Okay, yeah. It does sound a little dumb.

But just remember, that's the same thing that hurt Marco.

That whole deal with Mikasa is how I made friends with Marco. After Eren was done laughing his sorry ass off, Marco came over and told me not to think about it. I wasn't upset or angry or anything. It was just a little embarrassing to fail that hard in front of what may have been the prettiest girl I could've ever had a chance with. I couldn't believe what happened for a moment, either. Not because I'd transformed, but because of the way Marco dealt with it. A human with no real experience with supernatural forces would usually react the same way Connie did. But Marco... I guess he was just always more open-minded.

It kinda saddens me that the face he gave a pep talk to those years ago was the same face that ripped out his eye.

I feel like a traitor.

and would you look at that? Even the good things in life, the amusing mistakes I've made in the past, they all link back to me nearly killing a guy.

Aren't I just a great guy to have around?


	3. Light A Fire With A Match

I can't believe I'm being dragged along to this. I mean, literally, _dragged._ Sasha has me by my wrist, and Connie practically wrestled me into the car a few minutes ago. We're at the stadium, its huge spotlights shooting off into the darkening sky. The car park is near full. The line to get in is long and winding, and I'm half hoping they'll run out of seats.

"Hurry _up._ " Connie whines, walking ahead of Sasha and I. "I want to get a good view, alright?"

"They have huge screens in there. If you want to see the action up close, you can just look at that." Sasha explained as her fingernails dug into my skin. She's much faster than I am and I don't know how farther I can go without tripping up.

"They also have a Kiss Cam." I hear a voice from nearby. Reiner is once again tailing us. Considering who he is, he's the least likely of us all to be a shipper, but "Springles" has been a one true pairing of his for as long as I've known him.

"Shouldn't you be in there getting ready to play?" Connie hisses. I can tell he doesn't want his crush on Sasha to be exploited tonight. _As if it hasn't already, lover boy._

"I thought I'd come outside to see who was gonna come and watch us. You _are_ cheering for the Titans, right?" He laughs a little.

Of course we are. The other team, the Garrison, are second-rate at most. Their "star" player is a guy named Hannes. He's never scored a goal in his life and there's a rumour going about that he's a drunk, too. I don't know why these guys are even bothering to show up.

"Well, I guess Connie's right. I'll catch you later." Reiner jogs off to the staff-only entrance. The lucky bugger can get in that way, yeah. He's so heavy in muscle weight I feel like his footsteps could cause an earthquake. I swear he once cracked concrete during a marathon.

We reach the back of the line. It looks like it'll take ages to get in. Connie imitates the mating call of a dying walrus. He's acting as if he dropped an iPhone 6 in the gutter.

Sasha is already eating the food she'd brought with her for the match. She promised she'd save some for us, but knowing her, I doubt it'll last to the end of the queue.

A few people line up behind us.At least we're not the last people here. In the darkness I can only make out their hair. Two short blondes and one slender, black haired woman.

"Historia! I thought you didn't like sports?" Sasha exclaims. Oh, great. _It's people we know._

"I'm not a huge fan, but I thought I'd come to support her, you know?" By now, everyone knows who the mysterious "her" is when Historia is around. Ymir.

"If you can't see, I'll lift you up." The black haired woman jokes. From her voice I can tell it's Mikasa. Considering how gloomy she is a lot of the time, her jest takes me by surprise.

"Lift me up too." Connie practically busts a gut with his own sentence.

"And me." Sasha raises her hand, nearly spilling her can of Coke, which for once is diet.

They all laugh amongst themselves for a while, before the slightly taller blonde speaks.

"Who do you think'll score the most?" It's Armin, the boy who primarily follows my roommate around akin to Bertholdt with Reiner.

"You're not getting into betting, now, are you?" Sasha cackles.

"No, I just thought it'd be interesting to see what happens."

"I think Bertl will. I mean, he's the best player." Connie chimes in.

"Sure, he has a good kick, but he's slow." Mikasa contends.

Their little debate goes on for a while as the queue shortens. I stay quiet, honestly wishing I wasn't here at all. You know where I'd rather be? In bed, with my studies. Or "studies", with the little finger-quotation marks, as Sasha likes to put it.

They eventually agree Ymir will probably score the most, and now we're almost at the end of the line.

"Three tickets, please." Connie squawks at the guy in the ticket booth, almost too quick to be audible. He hands in the money before the vendor even has a chance to speak himself. The vendor stiffly handed us our tickets.

 _Great. We're in._

* * *

We go to sit about midway up the seating plan. We have a nice view of the pitch and the massive overhead TVs. It seems everyone we know has decided to sit in this exact row, actually.

I'm in between Sasha and Connie, the honorary third wheel. To Sasha's left are Mikasa, Armin and Historia. To Connie's right are some of the professors from the university. I guess they need to have fun, too, right? From where I am I can see Ral, Zoe and Nanaba - some kind of girls' night out. Alongside them are Zacharius and Smith. There's someone next to Professor Smith that seems to be with him, but I can't make them out. It could be Levi, though they seem way too tall. They lean over to pick something off the floor. I see the top of their head; short brown hair, with some kind of black string tied around horizontally. Their arm is tan, freckled and...

Shit.

 _He's_ in the same row as me.

This is exactly the reason why I didn't want to come.

"Sasha, I'm gonna go get some drinks." I excuse myself, standing up. She pushes me back down before I can walk away.

"Already loaded." She opens her shoulder bag to show me way too many canned drinks.

"I gotta take a... a piss." I try to stand up again, but she's holding me down.

"Connie spent good money on your ticket and Reiner's been expecting you here. The least you could do is be a good friend and stay." Damn, she's good. I let a frustrated grunt escape my throat and give in. As long as he doesn't see me.

It's just now that the famous Kiss Cam flickers on. A huge screen that can make incest happen if it chooses.. It has some kind of otherworldly power over us earthlings. It switches between various couples, succeeding in making them snog every time.

It's all fun and games until it lands on you.

I'm starting to wish I hadn't sat between Connie and Sasha. Not only would I not have to kiss anyone, but also Reiner's shipper dreams would've come true.

I'm hoping my startled, somewhat disgruntled face will chase the camera director off as I see it on the big screen, but it just makes the crowds even more excited. _God, is my hair really that ridiculous?_

Sasha's going off the deep end. She's looking left and right, up and down, as if she's trying to make sure the camera _isn't_ focussed on me and her. But it is, and we're imprisoned in its hellish pixels until out lips meet.

Her gaze meets mine. We're both as terrified as eachother. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Connie scowling. What, did he _want_ to be in my position? He seriously needs to sort out his priorities.

I stare at her pale, dry lips. Underneath them are her fangs. _That's_ what I'm afraid of. I don't want her getting a taste for my blood. That would definitely ruin the evening I'm already not enjoying.

I peer round to see how many people are watching _us_ rather than the big screen. Everyone except Connie. Marco's gawking from behind Erwin, There's a small look of concern in his eyes, actually. I'm not sure why, but I'd feel much more comfortable with the situation if he wasn't here right now. His mere presence makes me tense.

"Come on, Jean. Can we just get it over with?" Sasha murmurs, her attention periodically being won over by the screen. This is when I have to thank Connie for saving my life.

After sitting there, looking away, glowering, he finally builds up his angered courage. He leans over me and practically faceplants his lover. There's wild cheering from the crowd, and then the camera moves on to another unfortunate couple.

* * *

After a little while, the match starts.

In case you were wondering, this isn't regular soccer. The rules are modified to incorporate the powers of shapeshifters, which explains why all the players are conveniently of that species.

I actually find myself enjoying the experience, especially after Armin's prediction is true and Ymir scores three goals in a row. Mikasa eventually _does_ lift Historia up, who's holding a "Go Girlfriend!" sign. Everything she does is so... cutesy.

It gets pretty exciting, and when half time comes I realise how much I miss going out with friends. Everyone's laughing. The professors are drunk, and that's hilarious to me.

Most of my acquaintances get up in unison to go to the toilet. Only Historia, Professors Ral and Nanaba, and Marco are left.

 _Maybe if I stay still and face forward, he won't notice me._

But it's too late, isn't it?

He saw me in the Kiss Cam.

I keep trying to ignore him, though my eyes keep wandering back to him.

He's standing up.

He walks past the drunken Petra and Nanaba and _over to me._

Why does he want to speak to me?

I'm praying he'll walk past, that he's just heading to the bathrooms like everyone else. But, no. He stops where Connie had been sitting, but he stays standing.

"Just wondering... Eren said I've been causing some problems recently."

He says it so innocently. Too innocently, even for a freckled saint like him. Is he _sassing_ me? Is he really doing this now? This is fucking immature.

"You're gonna blame me for something I didn't do?" I retaliate, as obnoxiously as I mean it.

"Every time I'm mentioned, according to Eren you go off in some strop. I was just wondering why."

"You can fucking expect why, can't you?" I sound aggressive. Right now, I _am_ aggressive. I bet he has some kind of agenda here. I don't need this shit. I should've stayed at home.

"You know, you're the one who's been ignoring me, not vice versa. I know that... things happened, but-"

"I have every right to avoid you at the moment, Marco."

"I didn't do anything." He defends himself. At this point I could just apologise for snapping and go along with my day. But actually, he's pissed me off now. Really. He should know perfectly well why I don't speak to him.

He folds his arms. "I know you feel like a victim, but right now you've been hurting me by ignoring me. Can't we just pretend it didn't happen or something?"

Why is he confronting me now, of all places? And seriously? I haven't been ignoring him. He's like some walking trigger bomb to me. I can't look at him without thinking of what _it_ did.

"You know damn well why we can't do that!" I shout. I'm a little more jumpy than usual. My eyesight is hazy. It's now that I come to terms with something new; _I'm drunk._

I could calm myself down, maybe go for a piss and leave him be. But no, I'm angry. I'm not the best person to make angry. I'm angsty. I have problems. My whole subspecies is associated with anger issues, and to top that off, I'm intoxicated.

I lean over, resting my elbows on my knees.

"Just... just fuck off, right now."

"Jean..."

" _Go."_ I growl. Great, another reason why I avoid the public. Emotions don't always play well with me, especially with these situations. My supposedly intimidating, inhuman voice doesn't chase him off either.

Why is this guy so brave, or whatever this is?

He stands there, watching me. I don't think I'm gonna transform, but there's no doubt about it. He's reached a danger zone with me.

I'm only lucky when my two 'best friends' arrive back.

"Gosh, Jean, you look all hot and sweaty. Your breathing's all over the place, too..." Sasha exclaims when she sees me. She notices Marco just after, and then she ignores me.

I'm too caught up in my own feelings to notice he has feelings too.

Sasha goes to hug him.

He's not crying, he's too strong for that. But with Marco, you can just tell when something's hit a nerve. Connie goes to sit by him too.

I use this as my excuse to leave the wretched stadium. Once again, nobody realises how everything affected me. I'm the selfish bastard who can't help but think at this point, ' _It's all about Marco fucking Bodt, isn't it?_ '

Because nobody, _nobody,_ cares that I was a victim too.


	4. Karma

It's eleven at night. I left the stadium at around about half nine, and I've spent an hour and a half angsting over the hood of Sasha's Ford. I could've gone home, but it's dark and I'm going to be honest - I've forgotten the way back.

I feel sick. I'm not sure if it's because of the alcohol, or because I've just had such an awful confrontation. I'm sure at least one person followed me out of the stadium when I left in a strop, but they gave me my space. Whoever it was, I'll thank them later.

After staring at the same thin, pale tree for so long as it stands in front of the car, I grow less distressed, and more bored. Will those assholes at the match hurry up already? It's fucking freezing out here. The cold metal I'm sitting on isn't helping. If I at least had Sasha's keys, I could sit inside this stupid machine and be warm.

Sooner or later, Sasha finally gets here. She practically flings herself upon me, and we land on the floor on the other side of the car. Shit, it's even colder down here. When I smell the beer on her breath I realise I'm not the only person who'll be frozen solid by the end of the night.

"What're we gonna do about the car?" I complain. "You're drunk. You can't drive."

"We can walk, silly." She paused, sniggering to herself. "Might give you a chance to... cool off."

"Fuck you, Sash." I groan as I push her off me into the damp tarmac.

"Gladly." She giggled. Jeez, how much did she drink?

* * *

As we walk, I start to recall the route home. We have a somewhat relaxed, albeit drunken discussion. She informs me that Connie went to hang out with the Titans, and that believe it or not, they won. The rest of the conversation is gossip about the others, mostly. It cheers me up a little and I start to forget about the whole drama from before. Well, I do, until Sasha decides it's an absolute fucking great idea to bring it up again.

"Sorry I didn't... you know." She stumbles out.

"What?"

"I hugged him but not you."

"I know."

She looks me up and down, a saddened expression crawling across her face that seems almost comical for a moment, before lazily wrapping her arms around me. Her left is around my waist, her right over my shoulder. I hesitantly return her hug - her skin is naturally cold and it sends a chill up my spine.

"You're more cuddly than you let on." She informs me, giggling.

"So are you." I let a small smile slip onto my lips.

Our hug lingers for about a minute, before Sasha pulls away.

"You act all angry. You're more like a big puppy." She's still giggling.

"Hey, well, according to Eren, I am one." She laughs harder when I say this.

"You should do it." She calms down a little and looks right into my eyes. She's still beaming at me, her arms lying inertly at her sides.

"Do what?" I tilt my head to the side. Her request catches me off guard.

"Do your thing." she prompted me. "The werewolf thing." She's giggling again. The smile on my face drops. Why would I voluntarily transform? Even if she is drunk, why would she ask this of me? She knows how I feel about it. Everyone knows by now.

I shake my head. I've already had one outburst today and I know saying anything will end with me screaming in her face.

"Please? Pretty please?" She's acting like a little kid. I start walking. I'm still a little dizzy, but I try to make my movement as swift as possible. She follows me, and I think she's decided to keep quiet now.

Eventually, we reach campus. I think Sasha's sobered up just a little, because she apologises to me.

"I didn't mean anything by it. I drank a _lot_ at the match tonight. Truce?" She has a hand on my shoulder, and her voice is sweet. I decide to forgive her.

"Yeah, sure. Truce." I don't mean it sarcastically, but it comes off that way.

"I said sorry!" She pouts.

"I know. I'm just a little... stressed right now." I explain. Sasha smiles at me sympathetically.

"It's okay. ...If you want, you could bunk at mine tonight." She suggests.

"Why?"

"Well, it would give Eren a bit of a break, plus Mikasa's staying over at Armin's."

"What, is he helping her study for an exam or something? On a Saturday night?" I joke.

"Yeah, actually. She usually aces everything but this one's really stressing her out."

I laugh a little. Who would've thought Mikasa would need help with anything? Half the time, all the girls at the university seem like goddesses. And Armin, too, I guess.

We decide to take the long way back to the dormitories, and we walk by some of the offices, study houses, and the library. The only thing illuminating our path is the occasional street light.

"It's kinda eerie out here, you know." I comment. It's mostly quiet out here. The brisk air sends a chill up my spine, especially with the thin t-shirt I've decided to wear.

Sasha says nothing. I know she isn't cold because of what she is, but we can both see it. Something's not right. It's too still out here, as if something should be moving. Even the soft rustle of the leaves on a tree would comfort me right now.

We move slower, though I can't help but feel as if we should be quickening our pace, especially as we walk past Professor Erwin Smith's office.

There's definitely something wrong. I hear a yell faintly through the walls of the building. Before I can react, before I can even alert Sasha, I'm knocked over by some incredible force.

The doors of the office have burst open with a bang.

I'm being attacked.

I feel claws rip across my skin and warm blood trickle down my arm. It's at the point I'm obliged to transform, to ensure my own safety. Whatever this thing is, it could kill me. I try to wrestle it off but it's strong.

Fuck.

You know how you get a cut and it doesn't really start hurting until about a minute later? Well, I'm feeling that right now. I think it's cut me more than once, because suddenly there's blood all over my arm and it's seeping onto the chest of my shirt. I end up literally howling in pain, which feels almost embarrassing.

Just as I feel like this thing's going to kill me, it stops. It stares me in the face, and I stare back. At first I think it's noticed the true terror in my eyes.

Yeah, I'm scared right now.

But it turns out, it doesn't seem to give a shit whether I'm feeling emotionally great or not.

No, it's a little more morbid than that. It stopped because _I'm the wrong person._

It's intelligent. It growls something and then climbs off me, but before it can run away and hunt for whoever it is it's looking for, it's tackled by someone.

Half covering my face with my arms, I look over at the action. A short man with black hair has it firmly restrained on the ground. I don't get how strong Levi can be - I mean, he's fucking 5'3.

He's acting so calm. He's standing on the predator's shins, and has his hands balled into fists, jammed into its wrists.

As I watch, I piece together what it said. 'Air... vin.'

Erwin. It's searching for Erwin... but why?

As I watch the situation more carefully, it becomes a little more clear.

The thing that attacked me was a werewolf.

No, you don't get it. A werewolf. A lycanthrope. Someone like me. Professor Smith wasn't lying when he said I wasn't the only one here. At this point, I don't give a shit if that thing broke my arm. I'm not alone. That also explains why it was looking for him - he studies my kind in his spare time.

I look around myself. Levi is still holding down the werewolf, and a shocked Sasha Braus is watching the whole situation. She runs to me and puts a hand behind my back for support.

"Jean... are you okay? Your arm is... Hey, speak to me." I vaguely hear her, but I don't answer. My ears are ringing and I'm not too sure why. My mind is preoccupied and I can't bring myself to concentrate on the girl. She starts to look more worried when I don't reply, but her focus is won when Levi calls out to her.

"You know, it's usually around this time someone calls for help." The way he says this so casually, given the situation he's in, feels ridiculous. Sometimes I don't get how a guy like him can even exist. He's so... perfect. I mean, he's a complete dick, but he's perfect. He's also an incubus who brings out the gay in most of the male students here, so I should shut up.

Sasha whips out her phone and calls someone. I think she's calling either Professor Smith or Hange Zoe. I hope it's the latter, because if that werewolf gets its hands on Erwin, well, he's in trouble. I don't think he can defend himself as well any more, given the loss of his arm.

When Sasha finishes on the phone, she comes back to me.

"Seriously, say something. You look... concussed, or something. I don't know! I don't get werewolves." She rambles, and I can only seem to stutter out one thing.

"Who... who is that?"

I say it so quietly and frailly and I don't even remember saying it after I have done so. She looks back over, squinting, but then shakes her head.

"I don't know. Can't see his face, and even then, he's covered in fluff." Great, again with the casual remarks? I nearly _died_ just then!

"So are you, actually."

This time I decide not to scold her and let her have her moment. I mean, it's not every day I look like this and actually have my human mind.

* * *

It's the next day. I think I must've passed out after the attack from blood loss, because I don't remember anything past Sasha calling me fluffy. I'm in my own bed - so much for bunking at Sasha's. I have a cast on my left arm, so I was right about it being broken. As I sit up, I feel myself ache all over, mostly in my shoulder. The werewolf cut me quite a few times, but to quote an amazing movie called ' _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_ ', it's just a flesh wound. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, though.

I cautiously lean over and grab my phone from the bedside table. I have a couple of text messages, and both are from Sasha.

From: Potato Girl  
in case u don't remember tomorrow, you got attacked. Busy all day but ill c u in the afternoon.

From: Potato Girl  
also Connie saw ur phone when we took u to the hospital. pls change my screen name.

I laugh a little when I see the second text, and decide to reply.

To: Potato Girl  
awake now. who attacked me? also no

It seems like she's got her phone with her, because she replies pretty swiftly.

From: Potato Girl  
i didn't see his face. ask levi or smth.

From: Potato Girl  
it was one time. i'll block ur phone# if u don't.

To: Sasha  
i changed it. happy now?

From: Sasha  
screenshots or it didn't happen

I accept her request and awkwardly get out of bed. There's a sling on the nearby chair. Jeez, the least they could've done was leave me in hospital where someone could help me out at this point. I'd better get some explanation out of Sasha when I see her later or I'm changing her screen name back.

I'm still wearing yesterday's clothes, and I see no real need to get changed straight away. I brush my teeth, comb through my hair with my fingers and leave.

I head for the cafeteria, and it's midday, so I'm guessing it'll be jam-packed. My prediction is proven to be true when I get there and I can't even hear myself think.

I kinda wish I'd stayed in bed now.

Everyone is talking to me.

"Is it true you got attacked last night?"  
"Who did it?"  
"Oh, you poor thing."  
"You deserved it, don't you remember what you did to that other guy?"  
"Bad karma, huh?"

I simply stand there at the entrance, bewildered. Why do all these people care so much? I mean, I guess it makes sense now that I think about it. Last years incident became pretty popular, and this is almost like a reversal. Last time, I was the attacker. This time, I'm the victim. The only thing is that this time I don't know who attacked me.

I don't resent them or anything.

I'm thankful, actually.

I know now that I'm not alone.


	5. Unanswered Questions

After I realise the horde of curious students won't be dying down any time soon, I decide I won't be eating today. Or, at least, I will, but in the comfort of somewhere a little more private. I push through the crowd and ignore everything as I place an order at Subway (which I'm thankful for this place having. Every other source of food in the hall is pretty mediocre.). I bring it outside with me and go to sit on a bench. It seems like I'm safe out here, because all those assholes in the hall decide to go back to their food once I'm out of the vicinity.

It's nice out here. Maybe a little chilly, but it's relaxing. There's the occasional bird tweeting from the trees and a calm breeze that blows away the steam from my coffee.

There's also nobody there to ruin it. It's just me, alone.

Having this lazy little picnic makes me realise something. I like being alone. For a while now, I've been shunning myself, saying that I could be hanging out with people more often even if I don't want to. However, I went out last night and see how that ended? I got attacked!

I'm starting to think I don't want to meet this other werewolf. Not because I'm afraid, but more because I feel I don't need to. Great, I know I'm not the only one around here. But then what? Do I become best friends with them just because we both have the same curse? What if they think they can use me? I don't have time for people whining to me about their problems.

They could also be a total jackass like Eren.

I'm gonna be honest here and say, maybe I got a _little_ overexcited. I was surprised, I guess. I've been alone like this for so long that I've started to believe I really am the only one. When that thing came running at me, it startled me and reminded me of that whole notion. It convinced me I was wrong.

I've nearly finished my sandwich when I get a text. I have to rapidly find a place to put down the rest of my food on the bench, because I only have one hand to do it with right now.

From: Sasha  
something weird is happening. ppl are saying you weren't the only person who got attacked.

To: Sasha  
so? why should it matter to me?

From: Sasha  
he targeted ppl from the incident.

I still don't know exactly why I should care. I mean, of course I was involved in the incident. I caused it. But still, as long as this other guy doesn't try to break my other arm, I really don't think it matters all that much. I don't text Sasha back, hoping she won't bug me with this stupid thing any more. Of course, that's when I get another text.

From: Reiner  
this is Bertholdt. I don't have your number but we need to talk.

Okay, so, about what? _You_ haven't tried to speak to me since the last attack, what makes you think I will now? I'm guessing this is going to have something to do with last night. I'm not interested. People should start to think about that. I decide not to dignify him with a response, either.

Taking one last sulky bite out of my sandwich, I head back to my room. I still haven't finished my coffee, but it's lukewarm now so I shove it into an overflowing bin.

When I get back, I take in my surroundings a little more than I had when I woke up. Eren's mattress is still in pieces, so I'm assuming he slept over Armin's with Mikasa last night. I still haven't received an explanation as to why I wasn't left in hospital. I sit at the head of my bed and open my laptop, which had been left on the floor.

I log into facebook and mindlessly scroll through the news feed. Sasha's been posting pictures of her food again, as if this is Instagram or something. Connie's posted a picture of himself with the Titans. It's pretty funny, seeing the height difference between him and Reiner. It'd be even funnier if Bertholdt was in the picture, but it seems like he was too shy or something.

There's also a headline from Trost Uni's page. It's about last night. This must be how everyone knew about it. I'll admit, I am feeling a little curious about who actually got attacked. When Sasha said they targeted people from last year's incident, which people did she mean exactly? I open the page and read through the article.

After the exciting match between the Trost Titans and the Garrison, many of us were surprised when an attack that paralleled the famous werewolf incident from last year occurred. Witnesses say it happened around midnight, and three people were left injured. All three victims are associated with our university, with two being students and one being Professor Erwin Smith.

I scan the article a few times to see if I can find out who the last victim was. I know _I'm_ one of them, but who's the third person? I mean, I'm not entirely interested in knowing who the attacker was any more, but I'm sure there are other people who are curious.

One of the victims, who has requested we keep anonymous, told us that...

I stop reading. That was _so useful_. I guess it helps to know that Erwin was hurt too, but then, I kinda expected that. As far as I know, there's only two other people this third person could be. On one hand, it might've been Reiner. I think we've all covered the fact that he was the prime witness the first time around. On the other hand...

Jeez, I actually kinda want to find the culprit now. If Marco was the third person, then whoever thought it was a good idea to hurt the poor guy more than he's already been damaged, well, they're just low. I know last night I was pissed off with him, but I'd had a bit to drink and admit it - he provoked me. I would still never, ever wish any more harm on him after what _it_ did.

I change my mind. I have to know who this other werewolf is.

I feel like some kind of detective. I'm gonna go out and solve crimes.

Now I sound like a four year old... but mark my word, if that guy hurt Marco, this has already gone too far.

* * *

First things first, I need to confront Professor Erwin Smith. If anyone knows anything, it's him. I shut off my laptop and walk swiftly to his office.

When I arrive, I see the damage from last night hasn't been totally cleared up yet. The doors are partly off their hinges. I attempt to knock one without pushing it down completely, because it looks like he's atleast made an effort to make them appear untouched.

"Come in." I hear a slightly preoccupied voice from inside.

I step in and the destruction leaves me staggered. The whole room looks like a bomb site. There's paperwork over the floors and trace evidence of blood. Something clearly happened in here. Poor Erwin, he's trying to tidy it all up. I decide to pick up a few of the files on the floor and place them on his desk.

"Thank you, Jean. Now, what've come here for? I wouldn't suppose it has something to do with last night, by any chance?" He looks up at me and holds out his hand for me to shake. I gesture to my sling and he puts his arm by his side again, which I notice has a few cuts and bruises.

"Right, sorry. I forgot you were one of the people he went for." He apologises, but I don't completely buy it.

"Who was 'he' though? And why was he locked in your office?" I get straight to the point. I've got no time to chat. A serious expression forms across the professor's face. His eyebrows look even bigger now, if that's possible. They always look huge anyway.

"' _He'_ has requested not to be revealed to the public." He tells me, rather casually.

"You still haven't answered the other question though. Why was he locked up in here?" I step closer a little. He scratches the back of his neck and looks over at the blood stains, which are dotted over the wall.

"I needed to restrain him somehow."

"That totally worked, didn't it? I mean, that explains why me and one other person are completely unharmed, right?" I feel irate, mostly at the way he's avoiding telling me the truth. I actually laugh a small bit. I don't think I've been this passive-aggressive in a long while.

"You retained the worst damage, I promise." He informs me.

"So? How about that other victim? Even if it was just a little damage, if that guy was who I think it is, that's going to be the emotional equivalent of a hundred broken bones." I raise my voice. Even I didn't know I cared this much.

"Jean, there's a lot of things that you're eventually going to have to find out about. For now, I think it's better if you just leave it for a while. I assure you, we'll get this sorted out but until then..." He gestured towards the door. I turn around without another word and leave. My muscles are tense and honestly, I'm seething. I hold it in mostly because I respect him.

* * *

Hours later, I'm still pretty angry. I haven't been totally sure of what to do with myself, so I've been lazing around in my room. At about five in the afternoon, the door opens. The guy who opened it practically falls over when he gets in, and he's immediately followed by... a mattress?

Oh, right. It's Eren. Looks like he got a new one. He stands up and pulls the soft, white rectangle through the door. It's followed by a few other people. Mikasa's holding the other end, and Sasha walks in just behind.

"Ah, jeez... Hey, Jean, can you help out a little? You were the one who destroyed my old one, after all." Eren groans. How heavy is that thing? Last I checked, Eren was pretty strong.

"He has a broken arm, lay off him a little." Sasha responds on my behalf.

I watch the three struggle to replace the old mattress with the new one, and Eren immediately flops on top of it when they're done.

"This one's nicer, actually..." He mumbles, lisping through his pillow.

"What did you say to _him_ last night?" I ask Eren, still angry despite his moderately funny effort to bring in the mattress. Heturns and looks right at me, a deadpan expression forming on his boyish face.

"I told him he pissed you off."

"Why? Why then? I know you don't like me but I didn't think you were one for causing drama. Or have I got you wrong, Eren Jaeger? Are you even more of a jackass than I first thought?" I release all my feelings in one go. He pulls himself off his bed.

"I thought he had a right to know." He stepped towards me.

"There's nothing wrong with Marco. It's what happened that hurts. You know that." I retaliate, standing up and looking down at him.

He pauses for a moment, stringing together a sentence in his mind.

"I think you owe him an apology."

I raise my arm - the one that's not broken, and prepare to punch him. He has a cold, hard stare that just makes me want to beat him up. Before I can relieve myself, I feel a tickle behind my ear.

 _No._

"Sasha, get _off._ " I mutter, not taking my eyes off Eren. It's too late though.

This is beyond embarrassing. At some point, Sasha figured out that this is one of my S _tupid. Fucking. Weaknesses._

I feel my muscles weaken a little.

I hate her so much right now.

She's scratching behind my ear.

It's a little known fact that this actually works on people like me, and it's terrible. I feel a little ashamed to admit that I secretly like it.

She catches me off guard and shoves me back onto my bed. She's still doing it, petting me like a puppy. It's ridiculous. For the love of god, _stop, for the sake of my dignity._

"You're such a dog, Jean." I hear Eren say. Nope. That's the limit. I think Sasha's gonna make another fluff joke, because suddenly there's fur everywhere and I'm lying back on my own tail, which is extremely uncomfortable. I have to roll over on to my side, and Sasha still won't stop.

I can hear Eren laughing. Great.

"This is why I bought you a tennis ball for your birthday." He sniggers.

"You know, Eren, I could always remind these two of that time you accidentally turned into a frog." Mikasa finally speaks, and it's glorious. I see Eren go bright crimson and his eyes flash red for a moment.

"We're not supposed to talk about that." He hisses.

Eventually Sasha stops, but there's an annoying, shit-eating grin on her face.

"You're kinda adorable like this, you know."

I decide to once again give her this moment, even if it _is_ embarrassing as fuck. She's just someone you can't really get mad at.


	6. Baseless Answers

Sasha messes around with me for a few more minutes. It's as if she's totally forgotten that I am, in fact, a nineteen year old university student studying literature. No, instead I am Jean Kirstein, professional puppy. Honestly, I'd rather not be doing this. As pleasant as the whole situation of me being tickled, rubbed and stroked by a pretty, young woman may be, I have a fair amount of self-respect I'd like to uphold. Mikasa is still tormenting Eren with threats of his past accidental transformations, and when she's done with that, she decides to leave and take Sasha with her.

"You know, Bertholdt's looking for you. You really should talk to him, it sounds important." The red-haired girl informs me, getting ready to exit my room.

"How important is it?" I ask, seeing her out the door.

"I think he knows who did it." She replies, somewhat cryptically. She's halfway down the hall by the time she finishes her sentence.

I go back to my bed. Eren has seemingly fallen asleep on his oh-so-comfortable new mattress. I'm stuck in here now, whether I like it or not. If I go out, there's gonna be cries of a monster on campus, and I've already taken that beating.

The truth is, you know how I said I'm not completely skilled at controlling my transformations? Well, slight setback. I can't turn back into a human at will. Considering that so-called supportive upbringing from my mom, I'm surprised she never taught me how to turn back on my own. She always had this horrific medicine that tasted like bone marrow, and she made me take it whenever I transformed. It'd send me right back, but I never figured out how.

It's now that I've figured out why I wasn't left in hospital. Part of their code of conduct is that they can't treat werewolves because of the altered anatomy, and not to mention the safety risks involved. I was unconscious when they brought me in, so I doubt they would've been able to give me that god-awful medicine. That's why they left me in my own bed.

* * *

I'm left pondering my thoughts for a few minutes, when I hear a knock on the door. I wonder if Sasha left her keys behind or something. I walk past the gently snoring Eren and look through the peephole. I can't open the door straight away - If it's someone I don't know, I could be in big trouble, letting them see me like this.

I can't tell who it is. They're pretty short and wearing a dark green hooded cloak with the Wings of Freedom on one shoulder. The Wings of Freedom are the university's logo, so I'm guessing this person must be some student.

"Who is it?" I call through the door feebly. The person pulls out a small note from under their cloak and slides it under the worn slab of oak. I pick it up and unfold it. The handwriting is untidy and the whole thing looks rushed.

 _They're going to expel him. Do you regret what you did?_

What? Seriously... what? Who's 'him'? The attacker? What did I do? I grip the door handle, claws digging into the underside of my hand. The moment the mysterious person outside sees the handle turning, they run. I find myself flinging to door open so hard, it leaves a dent in the wall. They're nearly at the end of the long dormitory hallway.

They've grown. They're at least two feet taller, their new long legs allowing them to run faster than you could imagine.

A shapeshifter.

I sprint after them, dropping the note behind me. I barely notice when I drop to all-fours (or threes, considering the state of my left arm), improving my speed and managing to look like a complete dickhead. I live on one of the higher floors, so at this point I could either slow down and take the lift or practically nosedive down the stairs.

I'm not particularly compulsive, but this time I feel desperate. I grab the railing of the stairway with my unimpaired hand and drop to the ground, not even bothering to take the steps. When I hit the ground, I land badly and I feel my broken arm shift slightly in its cast.

Shit. Now it hurts again.

I let out a yelp and continue running, staggering from the shock of the fall. It's at this point I know they could be anywhere. They could've escaped into someone's room. They could be outside. They could be anywhere. Plus, they're a shapeshifter. Right now, not only could they be anywhere, but they could also be any _body_. It's only when I see the flourish of their cloak disappear around the corner leading outside, that I know I haven't lost them.

I continue the chase. My arm still hurts and I'm worried I made it worse. My muscles are starting to ache from the leap. Why did I just have to go and be so stupid? I could've taken the lift and not be feeling how I am.

No, I can't think like that. I can see them now, and I would've taken much longer had I taken the elevator. They're right ahead of me as I skid around the corner.

They're running in a straight line now. They're slowing. They're heading for the lunch hall. I'm catching up, despite only having three limbs to run with. I'm going to catch them. I have to.

I'm right behind them. As I run, I ascend back onto my legs and reach out with my hand. I grip the end of their cloak, but they speed up. My claws rip through the soft material, and I don't catch the runner, only a segment of the stupid hoodie as a token. How tight do they have that thing? It didn't even slip off their shoulders. The force of ripping off the fabric makes me fall over, again on my broken arm.

I have to persevere. I have to keep going. I falter back upright. I refuse to give up the chase. They run into the hall, practically kicking the doors open. I burst in just behind.

Fuck.

I'm an actual fucking idiot.

It was a trap.

They've got me in here, now, and it's just time for dinner. The room's packed with students and I can't even see a green hood any more. To make matters worse, everyone's staring at me. I squeeze the shred of fabric in my hand as I balance on it. My breathing is heavy and my teeth are bared.

I really must look like a monster to some of these guys. They're all gawking at me, in awe, or wonderment... or fear.

As if I didn't already have a bad reputation here.

There's a girl near the front of the crowd. I don't know her name but I've seen her before. She has voluminous black hair in pigtails that hang over each shoulder. She looks like she's going to scream.

That'll really do me in. If she causes a scene, people are going to think I did worse than just bursting in through the doors as a bloody werewolf.

I'm still, and silent. I'm just as scared as they are.

The girl's mouth is widening. She's going to do it. Please don't scream. I'm begging you here. I guess I'm not helping; I'm staring straight at her, willing for her to stop.

My gaze is broken when somebody steps in front of me, facing the mob.

"He's gonna do it again!" I hear a small voice at the back of the crowd. Voices start picking up, calls of bloody murder spreading through the hall.

"Just leave him alone. Can't you see he's injured?" The person in front of me speaks. Until now, I've been too shocked to look up and see who it is.

Oh, it's him alright. Just like the infamous Mikasa incident, Freckled Jesus is here to save my sorry ass.

"You know what he can do, though. Don't you remember what that thing did to you?" Another voice calls. Thanks, calling me a 'thing' is such a mature thing to say. What are you, five? This is university.

I take a few steps back. Maybe I can just leave and it'll all be over.

"I think he should be expelled, not you." The same voice continues.

 _What?_

Why are they expelling Marco? He's a star student, or so I'm told.

"No, expel both of them. They're all the same." Yet another voice argues. Am I missing something here?

Suddenly it clicks.

Now I have a reason to be angry. Why didn't I ever think of this? I'm a complete and utter fucking idiot. One year ago, I attacked Marco Bodt on a full moon. He lost an eye. If it went to that extent... There must've been more than just scratching involved.

I didn't just leave him maimed.

I cursed him.

I guess nobody had the heart to tell me I did this. Either that, or they assumed I'd worked it out.

Does this mean he was.. No, he couldn't be, could he? I just can't imagine him... No.

On the night where I was attacked, it wasn't a full moon. The werewolf in question must've been conscious of what they were doing.

Would this guy have the heart to take revenge like that? Why now? Why would he target Erwin Smith, too? Does this mean the third victim was Reiner?

I stare up at Marco. He's turned his head to look at me. I can't see what kind of expression he has from this angle, but I'm guessing he feels pretty saddened.

"Just let me sort this out. Go back to whatever it is you were doing." He instructs the crowd, and believe it or not, they follow his order, as if he;s some sort of saint. Even the people who argued against him leave us.

He turns to face me and holds out a hand. I take it wearily and he helps me up. I'm speechless, and I think he can see that.

"Are you alright?" He asks me. I don't like being this close to him. That eye patch makes me feel guilty. The scars patterned across his face and arm look so much worse this close. I nod in reply, cradling my broken arm. He notices the cast, and immediately his expression changes from concern to guilt, and then... confusion?

"I don't remember doing it," He claims, "But if it's true... I'm so sorry."

He sounds genuinely guilty. It feels wrong, though. Surely he would remember something - there's no way he couldn't have been conscious if it wasn't a full moon.

I'm still dumbstruck. Do I ask him what happened? Do I ask him about what I did to him? ...Do I ask him if he knew the person who left the note?

Before I can ask him anything, he speaks up again.

"I'm sorry, I'll catch up with you later." He taps my shoulder and walks off. I wonder if he's leaving now because he feels guilty, or because he can see I'm feeling upset. Or maybe he just wants some alone time. Maybe he just has nothing else he wants to say and feels too awkward to just walk away. Honestly, that's worse because now I'm left here, standing awkwardly, on my own, as a werewolf with a broken arm.

A few people are still staring. Most of them are trying to ignore me. Obviously the black haired girl is one of the few whose gaze hasn't left me.

I'm too stupefied to move properly, and I lazily lean myself against the wall. I peer around the room, and out of the corner, I recognise something.

In someone's bag, I can see the corner of some fabric sticking out. It's green, the same green as the cloak of the person I was chasing. They obviously shoved it into that bag in a hurry.

The bag is sat next to a short, blonde girl. Annie Leonhardt. She, as always, is accompanied by the one and only Bertholdt Hoover.

Something here's suspicious. It's starting to make sense, though. Was Bertholdt going to tell me Marco did it? Was luring me in here and making a scene his backup plan?

I only have one thing to say.

Why?


End file.
